


This Is My Curse

by ReisDular



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Halloween, Pre-Relationship, SEP era, spoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:23:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReisDular/pseuds/ReisDular
Summary: Gabriel Reyes takes this shit seriously.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I heard we were doing Halloween fics

“What the FUCK are you fools doing?!”

 

The gaggle of soldiers sitting around the table sprang to their feet. At least one let out a girlish scream. The lights clicked on revealing the intruder was Gabriel Reyes.

 

“Jesus Christ, Reyes,” It was Johansen with a hand gripping his chest. “What’s your problem?  


 

“My problem? You wanna know my problem?” He jabbed a finger at the game board lying innocuously on the table, slightly askew from the jostling it had just received. It was surrounded by four, now unlit, candles.

 

Lawrence rolled his eyes, “Should we be playing Monopoloy instead? It’s Halloween!”

 

“I don’t care what you play, Estúpido so long as it’s not going to summon evil fucking spirits. Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie?! First to go is all the colored boys,” he motioned emphatically towards himself. “Then Drew Barrymore back there decides to take a sexy shower and she’s dead,”

 

“That’s true,” Winham, the indicated Drew Barrymore, piped.

 

“In the end the only one left is baby face over here.”

 

“What!?”

 

“Except now he’s gotta live the rest of his days in the mental ward at Walter Reed or Bellevue or where ever the fuck because he’s got PTSD and he’s cursed. Because horror stories don’t have happy endings! So please think of the god damn children and burn that shit!”

 

“Curses and evil spirits,” Jack ‘Baby Face Over Here’ Morrison sputtered. “Shit’s not for real, Reyes! It’s just a shitty cardboard Ouja board.”

 

“Curses aren’t real? Then how do you explain _this?!”_

 

Reyes turned dramatically and the group waited with baited breath for him to lift his shirt, or tug down his waistband, or something to reveal whatever mark of evil had been laid on him. He did neither of those things. He sort of just stuck out his butt

 

“Wwwwhat are we supposed to be-“

 

A sharp slap made them all jump. Reyes glared at them over his shoulder.

 

“This, Pendejos!” He slapped his ass again. “You think this is natural? You ever seen a man with an ass like this before?”

 

“I sure don’t see any back here,” Winham replied from the back. Her comment received at least one indignant squawk.

 

“That’s because when mi mamita was pregnant with me she crossed una bruja malvada who cursed her!”

 

Silence.

 

“So…you’re cursed with a fabulous ass and thighs?”

 

Reyes spun back around and gestured wildly toward Morrison.

 

“Shit! I mean- wait!” The young soldier was turning red.

 

“That’s part of the curse! Once it has you…you become infatuated, and it doesn’t let you go!”

 

“Sexiness isn’t a curse, Reyes.”

 

“Not that you would know, Lawrence you ugly fuck.”

 

“Seriously though I can’t stop looking at it,” Winham muttered.

 

“I feel like I’m being drawn in, “Johansen.

 

“Does it have its own gravitation pull?”

 

“It’s like a black hole!”

 

Morrison fell into a crouch, his arms covering his head to hide that he had turned bright red to the tips of his ears and down the back of his neck.

 

“Holy Christ! It got Morrison!”

 

“He’s a dead man!”

 

“I’ve got you, Baby-Face,” Winham rushed forward and dragged Morrison into a fireman’s carry.

 

“What- P-put me the hell down!”

 

“No man gets left behind! Semper fi!”

 

“I’m not a Marine!”

 

“That’s alright, I forgive you. Let’s get the fuck outta here, Boys!”

 

Winham hoofed it, carrying a squirming Morrison, and followed closely by Johansen.

 

“You’re really weird, Reyes,” muttered Porter who had watched the shenanigans unfold in silence.

 

“You’re a dumbass, Reyes.”

 

“You’re going on my shit list, Lawrence.”

 

“Quakin’ in my boots.”

 

Reyes turned away with a dismissive snort and Lawrence flipped him the bird before stomping out of the room.

 

“You really believe that bit about curses?” Porter watched as Reyes found a trashcan and pulled it over to the table.

 

“Curses? Nah…” He pulled the trash bag out of the bin and snatched up the matches from the table. “Spirits on the other hand… Where does a soul go when a body dies? Does it linger? Does it ‘move on’? Does it even really exist at all?” Reyes struck a match and swiped up the board holding the corner to the tiny flame until it caught. “I’d really rather not find out.”

 

Porter shrugged, “I better go find out where Winham stuffed Morrison.”

 

“Try the closets.”

 

“Heh… Later, Reyes.”

 

Gabriel raised a hand in farewell and continued watching the cardboard as it burned.

**Author's Note:**

> Random thoughts that led to this story:
> 
> Las Brujas!!  
> Jack Morrison dying of embarrassment...and then second hand embarrassment.  
> "Sexiness isn't a curse, Reyes."
> 
> And then this happened. Happy Halloween, Friends!


End file.
